A Slice of Heaven

The brown and tan calf caught my eye. I was driving by a field in early morning, sequestered tightly in my own little world of deadlines, duties and disconnects.

And suddenly there he was. A mere toddler in bovine society, I suspect. I braked to watch him. So full of mischief as he romped and cavorted and nose-butted the larger calves.and nipped at the tails of the mama cows who stomped him away in annoyance.

So full of life. So full of joy. He made me smile.  And a tiny seed of longing was planted in my chest.

And then just down the road, I passed a yard where a little blond girl in a blue dress was chasing a purple butterfly. Her innocent face wreathed in smiles, she leapt and sprang, running and laughing and running some more for the sheer joy of it.

Now that seed of longing in my innards was sprouting into a firm stalk of yearning. Yearning to once again do something for the sheer joy of it. Unhurried. Unstructured. Unrequired. Simply because I wanted to.

Yep, I remember feeling just that way a long, long time ago. How do I get that back? Can I get that back in the midst of my ever busy, urgent paced, production-oriented adult existence?

And then this weekend, at a writer's conference of all places, the opportunity presented itself.

I had just finished presenting "Ten Things Every New Writer Should Know" and was not only exhausted but a bit exasperated. Due to technical difficulties with the hotel meeting room, I'd lost ten minutes from my presentation which was already over-packed with trying to cram 90 minutes of information into a 75-minute workshop. I was still irritated that I'd been forced to omit what I considered the most important page of points and skip to a very rushed ending when the moderator stuck her head in the door to announce a two-minute warning.

I had two hours to kill before my next appointment, so I changed into my walking shoes, jumped in my car and drove to a nearby industrial park (which was abandoned on Saturday) and began pounding my frustration out on the oak-lined streets winding around manicured lawns of tall glass buildings and a lovely pond with its peacock-spray fountain.

After an hour I ran out of gas and sank onto a sun-dappled park bench for just a moment to regroup. With only the sounds of fountain spray, chirping birds, and squirrels scampering up broad oak trees to accompany my solitude, I soon found myself sprawled across the bench on my back. As the shade melted my tense muscles, a cool breeze rustled my sweat-soaked hair, and thin shafts of sunlight peeking through oak leaves warmed my skin, I watched wispy white clouds scuttle overhead. Every now and then a lazy hawk would bank left and glide unfettered through my field of vision.

And there it was.. An unexpected slice of heaven. The quenching answer to my thirst for that long-lost whimsical moment of childhood freedom. 

The thought then hit me: Why can't writers do this in their writing? Evoke that feeling of childhood summertime by their words? Do the fast pace, looming deadlines, and urgency of production in our lives and our careers prohibit finding this elusive feeling? And transferring it to others?

If we could but find this place, this slice of heaven, couldn't we reflect that peace through our words?

What are your thoughts?

Break a leg!

Barbie Turns 50

Someone sent me this cartoon and I almost busted a gut. I hope I'm not breaking some copyright laws by sharing it with you.

Speaking of busting things, a lady walked up to me last week at a writer's meeting and spurted out, "You're Debora Coty.You broke my leg."

"I broke your ... um, excuse me?" I looked down and sure enough there was a walking boot at the end of a long-leg cast sticking out the bottom of her shorts. Gulp. I'd never seen her before in my life.


"Well, you didn't really break my leg, " she clarified, "but I broke my leg because of you."

Now at this point I wasn't sure if I was dealing with a stalker, a lawsuit, a nutcase, or a wacky sense of humor.

"Yep," she continued, "It was your book, actually. Someone gave me a copy of Grit for the Oyster last Tuesday night and Wednesday morning when I woke up, that was all I could think about ... getting downstairs and starting that book I'd heard so much about. So I flew down the stairs and kind of missed the last step."

Wow. Can't say I've ever been accused of bodily injury with words before.

Thankfully, she didn't hold it against me and turned out to be a kindred spirit. A delightfully wacky sense of humor, after all. After the shock wore off, I loved it.

Now when I'm getting ready to go on stage for a speaking gig and someone says, "Break a leg," I can truthfully say, "I already have." 

Head Hunting

So you're thinking of writing a book. You've got the storyline whirling in your head, your character profiles finished, and you're still toying with the ending. But that's okay. Many writers write organically and allow the story to bud and bloom as it grows, rather than following a strict outline.

What's your next major decision?

Simple yet oh, so important. Which voice are you going to use?

When I started my historical novel, The Distant Shore, I began writing in first person. After about six chapters, I realized it wasn't working - there were just too many details that couldn't feasibly be voiced through the eyes of my 6-year-old protagonist. A child that young wouldn't be able to perceive or compute all that I needed perceived and computed to bring the reader along on the journey.

So I did two things (at the suggestion of several editors): I went back and changed the story to third person, and I upped Emma Lee's age to nine, although the real life protagonist was indeed six when the story took place in 1904. Three years makes a world of difference in maturity level at that age, and enabled me to include deeper insights and more knowledge of how the world works for my character.

We're all pretty well acquainted with first person narrative voice. It has strong emotional connection with readers (they become the "I" in the story) and a level of intimacy not included as much in other POV's (points of view).  The format of tellling the story directly to the reader enables the writer to use quirky speech, idiosyncrasies, and share "secrets" unique to the first person voice.

On the flip side, the vocabulary is limited by the narrator's own vocabulary and life experience. In other words, a galley slave couldn't expound on the "detested inadequacies of the existing penal system," because he wouldn't normally use such words or lofty thoughts. Not could my Emma-Lee understand or describe the symptoms of familial abuse in her family as a 6-year-old.

In first person, the entire story is colored by only what is within the character's scope of knowledge and experience. Thus, the story may not be entirely objective, a quality some authors use as a literary tool to lead the reader in one direction throughout the book and then spring a surprise (objective) climax on them they didn't see coming until the protagonist's subjected bent becomes apparent at the end.

 Second person POV is rare in novels, although it's used more often in non-fiction. I frequently use second-person in my self-help books such as Mom NEEDS Chocolate and my upcoming Too Blessed to Stay Stressed. In these types of inspirational, humorous books, speaking directly to the reader lends an atmosphere of girl talk across a table while sipping mocha lattes.

Are you gettin' me, girlfriend?

Third person POV can be approached several different ways. Third person omniscient is a distant, overall perspective, as if viewing life on earth from an astronaut's viewpoint in outer space. Or God's perspective, which is, of course, all knowing, all seeing. The narrative moves freely in and out of character's minds. This POV isn't used as often as it was in, say, Dickins day, but it can work well with broad sagas of multiple characters and events.

Limited third person is a kind of compromise between first person and third person omnicient.Although the story is told about another person as in "he" or "she," the storytelling remains in the consciousness of a single character. It doesn't have to be the same character; in fact it makes for a rather boring book if the entire story is told in one POV. It makes for a more interesting plot and more thorough coverage if the POV shifts between 3-4 characters, but attention must be paid to smooth flow.

Above all, you must take care not to confuse the reader. That would create what I call an "eyeball wall" and you're in deep dung-doo if you do too much of that. They'll simply close the book and walk away.

Most creative writing programs teach that you shouldn't hop heads - shift POV from character to character - within the same scene. POV changes should occur naturally at chapter changes or with line spaces within chapters. However, I've noticed a growing trend to shift POV from paragraph to paragraph in some modern fiction, although I personally find it bamboozling at times. You begin to wonder, "Now who's thinking this?" and you have to go back and re-read to figure it out. Many editors would consider this poor craft or lazy writing.

Well, I hope this little head hunt is helpful in your publishing quest. Write on!